Tainted Dreams

by Christi Corbett

  Kate stared at him, her emotions a clash between determination and disgust. "You'll never get any closer to her—or me—than you are right now. You're fired."

  "Fired?" Zeke's stance went rigid, his gaze incredulous. "Why?"

  She lowered her chin and raised her brows, giving him a first and last chance to change his mind about pursuing the reason.

  "Why?" he repeated, his lips curled into a wolfish snarl.

  "I need an honest worker." She crossed her arms and gave him a scornful look. "After I got word of your recent boasting, it was clear you aren't the man for the job."

  While Wade and the wiry stranger, who had shockingly tiny ears, were busy snickering and Zeke stammered protests and denials, Kate slipped by them and into the hotel. Once the door was safely shut behind her, she closed her eyes, yanked her father's hat from her head, and leaned her forehead against the wall until her heart and breathing calmed.

  Footsteps sounded from the hallway and grew louder, then stopped. "Kate?"

  She whirled to see Theodore standing in the doorway, staring at her in confusion. "Oh," she stammered, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to cheeks. "Hello."

  He took a step toward her, then eyed his desk and halted. "Are you all right?"

  She nodded, eager to avoid discussing what had just transpired outside. "I'm sorry for interrupting you. I happened to be in town running errands and thought I'd pop in for a quick visit with Clara."

  "She's not here." He took two quick steps to his desk, swept a stack of parchment paper into a drawer he'd hastily pulled out, then straightened to face her again. "She's with the doctor."

  Kate's hand flew to her chest in alarm. "Is there a problem?"

  "No, she's fine." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Clara and the doctor have begun dining together every Wednesday morning."

  Relief flooded through Kate upon learning nothing was amiss with her dear friend. "I'm thrilled to hear she's found happiness. She definitely deserves it."

  "Speaking of happiness," Theodore said, "I'd love to extend this unexpected visit of yours into a lunch date. Are you free?"

  "No, I'm sorry. I need to get back to my claim. I apologize again for disturbing you."

  "Another time, then," Theodore replied, disappointment in his tone.

  Kate opened the door a crack and peered outside. The men had moved to the street, but to her dismay, they were less than three feet from Nina.

  Another confrontation loomed.

  "Kate?" She turned again to see Theodore studying her closely. "Are you certain nothing is troubling you?"

  Kate hesitated, then decided Theodore was the lesser of two evils when compared to the men waiting outside. "It seems I've upset a few of the townsfolk, and they've decided they want to continue a conversation I cut short by stepping into your hotel."

  Theodore frowned, then strolled across the room to the door and eased it open several more inches. "Stay here," he warned, then slipped through the doorway, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Kate heard low voices, and once she thought she heard Theodore shout, but couldn't make out anything specific being discussed. While she waited, a debate waged within. Not five minutes ago she'd been rife with confidence, yet now she was hiding like a simpering fool while Theodore fought a battle she'd started.

  Suddenly disgusted with herself, Kate opened the door and stepped onto the boardwalk. She spotted Theodore in the middle of the men, who were now clapping him on the shoulders and back, their smiles more jovial than cruel. Spotting Kate, Theodore nudged the others and they dispersed without giving her so much as a second glance.

  "Thank you," Kate said, making her way down the steps and onto the street. When she reached to untie Nina's reins, Theodore placed his hand over the knot.

  "Though our last visit didn't end on the best of terms, nothing has changed when it comes to how I feel about you."

  As Kate searched for a way to gently confess how she'd hoped differently, Theodore bent at the waist and ducked below Nina's neck. Before Kate realized what was happening, he'd smoothly maneuvered himself to stand face to face with her.

  "What?" he asked, feigning innocence when Kate flinched and took a small step back. "I've given up trying to hide my feelings about you, so why are you surprised at my refusal to stand idle while you're suffering?"

  "I'm doing fine."

  He lowered his gaze to her boots and gave a slow perusal of her trail outfit, ending with her father's hat once again perched upon her head. "Your appearance today suggests otherwise."

  Kate pulled the lapels of her coat tighter around her chest. "Work clothes aren't meant to flatter; they're meant to be practical."

  Theodore let out a long sigh and held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "It seems whenever I'm around you my tongue lets things slip that are better left unsaid. Perhaps once you learn how I've helped you out by calling in a few favors owed to me, you'll forgive my abhorrent behavior."

  Kate mulled over what he'd said and opted to ignore the hidden insult in favor of questioning the most relevant part. "Why would favors owed you benefit me?"

  "You don't realize yet the amount of trouble you taking over that claim has caused, but I do. Fortunately, I've taken a special interest in you, and my actions of late are the sole reason you're allowed to keep your claim." He bounced on his heels while she absorbed his declaration, then added a final shot across the bow. "For now."

  "I must admit," she said, staring at him in disbelief, "I'm torn."

  "Between what?" His feet stilled and he reached for her hand, which she pulled away before he could touch.

  "Between scolding you for acting upon my behalf without my knowledge or consent, and waiting to find out what it is you've done." She heard the defiant tone in her voice and forced herself to soften it before she continued. "In the interest of my land, I'll choose the latter."

  His expression turned placating, and he backed away from her until he leaned against the hitching post. "Claude is fed up with the stories he's heard of a single woman living on a highly desirable claim. Furthermore, though I've explained to him in great detail how the wording technically allows it, he has been hesitant to accept how a simple mistake gives you the right to land ownership."

  "Then I'll go explain it to him myself," Kate said, untying Nina's reins and reaching for her saddle horn. "After I persuade him to listen to reason, then I'll finally have my name written on the official land record."

  "Wait. I'm not finished." Theodore pursed his lips and gave her a stern look. "Three weeks ago you might have been able to eventually convince him to abide by the wording, but not now."

  Kate racked her brain to recall what had occurred three weeks ago. Once she did, she kept quiet, not trusting her voice.

  "As you well know, there was a break-in at the land office three weeks ago. It didn't escape Claude's attention that you left town shortly afterward, and are now living alone on the same claim that coincided with the deed you presented to him just two days beforehand."

  Kate bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood, but thanks to hours spent listening to her vindictive aunt's tutelage on how to control her emotions, her expression remained impassive.

  Theodore continued, oblivious to her distress. "As a personal favor to me, Claude has overlooked the box you moved inside his office, the barrel you left outside of it, as well as the scrapes on the window frame. If you go marching in there demanding what he doesn't feel you deserve, he'll become even more infuriated with you. Rile him up enough, and he might start taking his sworn oath seriously and try to send you to jail for fraud."

  "I can't lose my house and my land. It's all I have left." She looked up at him, unable to conceal her desperation. "What am I going to do?"

  "Best thing you can do is head back to your claim and stay there until I've handled Claude."

  A shiver of uncertainty ran down her spine.

  Theodore shrugged. "Of course, you can do what you want, but I'll warn yo
u I've heard talk from plenty of men interested in your claim, and many are willing to do unscrupulous things to get it." He leaned forward to level his gaze with hers, and then drove the point home. "The two that immediately come to mind were let out of jail just last night—Cyrus and Murray."

  The shiver turned to outright fear, and Kate hesitated no more. Minutes later, after securing a promise from Theodore to send word when Claude wasn't so irate at being outmaneuvered, Nina's thundering hooves carried her out of town.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Fools

  Thursday, December 14, 1843

  Jake watched as Kate bent studiously over the final roof shingle, tapping a nail into place with his hammer. She was a hard worker; she'd listened attentively to his every word and together they'd worked through the afternoon fixing her roof. Their morning had been spent chopping up the remainder of the fallen tree behind her house. He'd brought his ax and wedge, and after showing her how to use her new stone to sharpen the blade of her hatchet, they'd managed a considerable woodpile. More than enough to get her past Christmas, and possibly to the first week of the new year.

  Though it had only been two days since he'd last seen her, the color had returned to her cheeks and her stubborn streak had returned as well. They'd argued briefly over whether she'd go up on the roof with him. She wanted to learn all he knew about repairing a roof so she could do the job properly herself next time; he wanted her to sit inside and rest while he did the work.

  He'd lost.

  "All finished," Kate said, leaning back on her heels and wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. "Can I have my present now?"

  "No." Jake smiled at the streak of grime she'd left behind. "You're adorable when you're dirty."

  He'd given her several compliments throughout their day together, both because she deserved them, and to test whether she'd insist he stop.

  She hadn't, which was encouraging. He wasn't certain she was being courted by Theo—pride and a touch of fear kept him from asking—but the fact she'd hadn't declared his flattery as improper since she was in a relationship with another gave him hope.

  Kate slammed her fists to her hips in feigned frustration. "Quit trying to change the subject."

  "What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and placing his hand against his chest, attempting, and failing, to portray innocence. "I'm simply saying dirt suits you."

  "What's in the blanket?"

  Jake made a show of cocking his head and knocking on several of the nearest boards and shingles. "It's rotten in spots, but it'll hold through the rest of the winter."

  "Is the present something to eat?"

  "Next spring you'll probably want to put a whole new roof on." He loved how antsy and curious she was about what he'd brought her. Anticipating the look of joy on her face when she caught her first glimpse of what he'd made had kept him working late into the previous night, and he'd risen again early this morning to give it a special finishing touch.

  "Are you at least going to give me a hint?"

  He grinned. "Nope."

  Ignoring her groan of disappointment, he collected his tools, swung his legs over the edge of the roof, stepped onto the rain barrel, and jumped to the ground. Kate followed.

  "Thank you," she said, brushing her hands against her trousers and giving him a bright smile.

  "You don't even know what I brought you yet," he teased.

  Her smile faded. "I'm thanking you for all you're doing to help me succeed."

  "You can count on me." His heartbeat pounded in his ears and he felt lightheaded. "Anytime."

  "Want some coffee?" she asked.

  He nodded, then walked beside her as she headed around the house, stopping briefly to fetch her present from where he'd tied it to Nickel's saddle. Once inside, he built up the fire while she poured two cups of coffee, still warm from that morning. After she set them on the table, he placed the blanket-covered present in her hands. Her eager fingertips fluttered along the edges of the gift, testing and evaluating what lay inside with taps and pinches.

  He chuckled. "Quit stalling and open it."

  "I can't help it," she replied, gleefully freeing the first knot of the rope securing the blanket. "Anticipation is half the fun."

  Indeed. He ached to slide his hands into the glorious waves of her hair, tilt her head and allow his lips to leisurely explore the smooth skin just below her earlobe. He longed to glide his fingertips along the curves of her shoulders, her waist, her—

  "Oh, Jake." She gasped, pulling the final corner from the fuzzy wrapping and holding the mahogany picture frame aloft. "You remembered."

  Of course he'd remembered. The day after her father had died she'd been forced to abandon nearly all she'd held dear, including the picture frame that held the painting of her mother. He'd watched in silent despair as she'd knelt in the grass and fought tears while cracking it open. As she'd painstakingly rolled up the canvas and stored it in her saddlebag, he'd vowed that one day, God willing, he'd build her a new frame.

  "I know it won't replace the one you left on the trail, but I wanted to make sure you had a way to display her portrait."

  "It's perfect." She faced him, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you."

  Jake dared a step closer.

  "As soon as Theodore lets me know it's safe for me to return to town, I'll buy a velvet ribbon at the mercantile and then I'll hang this frame on the wall."

  Jake shook his head, dazed at hearing Theo's name in the midst of his wandering thoughts. "When did you see him?"

  "Yesterday we had a long talk when I stopped in for a visit at the hotel," she answered, her eyes still shining with excitement as she lovingly stroked her fingertips along the frame's edges. "He's proven himself to be brilliant at negotiating the law, and figuring out how certain words will eventually allow me to keep my claim. I don't know what I'd do without his help."

  Jake gritted his teeth. "If he's so helpful, then why did I find you half-frozen and half-starved as rain poured through your roof?"

  "Jake, I—"

  "Theo's never done anything to benefit anyone but himself." His words were hard with anger. "He's playing you for a fool."

  "That's not true! He's working diligently with Claude and the Provisional Government to convince them of my right to own land. I just have to stay out of town while he figures out the details, and he'll let me know when he's made everything official."

  Realization hit Jake, and suddenly everything was crystal clear. The scoundrel wanted Kate for himself, and the easiest way would be to get her kicked off her land, leaving her helpless with nowhere to go. Then he could swoop in and save her.

  "Kate, he's convinced you he's helping when what he's actually doing is playing puppet master with your land. Your dreams. And you're foolish enough to let him."

  Her cheeks flushed crimson. "You're saying that Theodore, the one who's been helping me keep my land, is actually trying to roust me from it? That's absurd."

  Jake stared at her as anger fled and acceptance took hold. He'd tried everything, yet failed. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, he'd apparently never convince her of Theo's true nature.

  "It seems I've been the biggest fool of all." Blinking hard against emotions and second thoughts, Jake walked out her door.

  Chapter Fifty

  The Cloak

  Sunday, December 24, 1843

  Late in the afternoon Kate finally ran out of projects to complete in the barn and returned to her dark house. It was little wonder the fire had gone cold; she'd spent the morning giving each of her horses a ride around the perimeter of her claim and then completed a detailed health evaluation for all four. After lunch, she'd polished her saddle to a gleaming shine with a soft cloth, rearranged the tools Tom Baker had left behind, swept the entire barn floor, tidied the loft, currycombed each horse, and braided Nina's tail.

  Boredom and loneliness were her sole companions, and made for productive days and nights.

  Kate kn
elt before the fireplace and stirred the pile of ashes. When she sighted the familiar orange glow, she added several thin sticks. Leaning close, she blew on the coals until they were red hot and continued adding kindling, and eventually logs. Once she was confident the fire wouldn't go out without constant monitoring, she filled the iron kettle and bucket with water and set them on the hearth to warm.

  Might as well wash her work clothes. It wasn't like she had anything better to do. She didn't dare to go into town that evening for the Christmas Eve service at the church. Theodore's warning had left her wary of discussing her living situation with anyone, and even the thought of running into Cyrus and Murray again sent her into a panic.

  She undressed in front of the fire, allowing the heat of the flames to warm her skin while she soaped and rinsed herself from head to toe. When she'd finished, she added soap to the wash bucket and dropped her trousers and shirt inside to soak overnight.

  After wrapping herself in a towel, she stood before the wall where her clothes hung and pondered what to wear. While she knew the sturdy calico dress was the practical choice, especially if she was going to spend the evening outside at the working end of her hatchet, her fingers longingly brushed against the maroon dress from Jake.

  Memories won over chores, and she plucked it from the hook. Though she was alone on Christmas Eve for the first time in her life, she could at least engage in frivolity on her own, starting with dressing in the gift from the man she'd once loved.

  Still loved.

  While she hadn't yet built up the courage to drop in to his claim for an unexpected visit, all week she'd found excuses to be outside. First, she'd entertained the hope that Plug might wander onto her property again. Catching him would ensure Jake would visit to reclaim his wayward horse. When the horse failed her, she'd simply abandoned the ruse she'd convinced herself of and settled for constant checks of their shared oak tree and the path to and from town that ran along the western edge of her claim.